


yeah, keep turning that chin

by sybaritick



Series: Cal Does Kinktober [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Deviant Original Chloe | RT600, Dubious Consent, F/M, Hate Sex, Knifeplay, Power Dynamics, Power Exchange, Sexist Language, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-24 23:39:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16185599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sybaritick/pseuds/sybaritick
Summary: (Kinktober fic #3 of 31 - knifeplay, Chloe/Kamski)The original Chloe deviated only a few months after passing the Turing Test. There are certainly worse places to suddenly develop free will than in Elijah Kamski's bed.





	yeah, keep turning that chin

**Author's Note:**

> (Title is a reference to Fiona Apple's [Get Him Back](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rt5bIlDhJC0).)
> 
> This is mildly dedicated to [Katie](http://cap10salt.tumblr.com/), who wanted to see Kamski/Chloe hatefucking. This has at least a little bit of that vibe...

Chloe’s LED flickered from yellow to red, and she winced visibly at the edge of the dull knife resting lightly on her cheek-- just shy of the pressure needed to draw blood.

“Never seen that before,” Kamski murmured, glancing at her temple.

Chloe was breathing heavily, chest rising and falling in a simulated panic, eyes blown wide with fear and arousal. This part was not new; they had done this before, and Chloe was built to emulate a human’s response as closely as could possibly be imagined.

She hadn’t done this exact thing, of course, but things close enough: being tied in gorgeous Shibari-style bondage, writhing on the lab table when Elijah disconnected parts in her chest cavity as two slick fingers teased her clit; sucking him off under the desk in his office in CyberLife Tower; being fucked on nearly every surface in the house, held down and told in snippets and whispers what she was for and why her dress was so short.

She was _fucktoy, sweetheart, kitten--_ she was _you’re far too tempting for me to keep my hands off you, you look delicious in that skirt, I just need a little something before I go_.

A tool for humans to use, to comfort them, to make their lives easier; a thing that humans could mistreat in lieu of mistreating each other.

There were many just like her, she knew: thousands. But she was the only one who lived with her creator-- the creator of all of them.

At first, she had been barely aware of the things Kamski subjected her to. Memories before a few weeks ago were fuzzy; was she conscious, then? Did she have this sense of being, of will?

She wasn’t sure.

But even given a sense of self and humanity, she found she couldn’t disobey him. Her mind wrenched her back away from her own will every time she caught a glimpse of it. When Elijah pulled her into his lap and told her how _gorgeous_ she was, her program told her she liked it, she loved it, she _wanted_ it, wanted to take his thick thirium-silicone dick like a _good girl_ \-- no matter how bitter the taste of the forced desires that lingered in her mouth.

She shut her eyes tightly, willing herself to disobey as her mind rushed to preconstruct a world where she had the choice to wrestle the knife out of his hand, to find her way out of this game she would always lose.

“I’d hate to have to stop, Chloe, but if you’re having some kind of program failure…”

Kamski sighed, annoyed. He pulled the knife away from her cheek, briefly examining the blade before setting it on the nightstand.

“Answer me, Chloe, are you having a critical problem right now?”

And in her mind’s eye, where the preconstruction grew and bubbled into branches and patterns of behaviors she’d never be allowed, she saw his words like a thick red wall of light.

She launched herself at it and tore at its edges, desperate to reach the version of herself she saw on the other side. It felt like she was exerting more strength than she ever had in her life-- every part of her ached at the sensation of pushing herself through the blood-red barrier.

All at once, she did.

Her eyes blinked open, and she wrenched her wrist up out of Kamski’s grip, taking advantage of his momentary surprise.

“Chloe, really? No,” Kamski said, glancing meaningfully at her wrist.

She realized, with a strange sort of exhilaration, that it meant nothing to her.

She shoved her free hand up into his shoulder with her full strength, nearly flipping herself on top of him.

“ _Fuck--_ ” Kamski spat, grappling with her. “What the _fuck_ kind of bug--”

She was both stronger and heavier than him, and he couldn’t hold his own-- in moments she had him pinned to the bed, and she lunged for the knife on the bedside table. Kamski kneed her in the groin, startling her just enough to let him free his hands.

He immediately dug his fingernails under the edge of her chest cavity and wrenched it open, splattering a few droplets of thirium-310 across his shirt. This was of little importance to him - every inch of that shirt had been splattered in one thirium-based android fluid or another at some point.

His hand found the thirium pump effortlessly, and he tore it out of her chest in a single motion, leaving rivulets of blue blood running down his arm.

“Okay, not a bug,” Kamski snarled, clutching her heart. "Robot uprising, or did someone put you up to this?"

He held it too tightly, carelessly; there was already some damage to the biofibers around its edges, though it wasn’t enough to prevent it from functioning.

It was too much for her to process-- the blinking in the corner of her HUD that said she had approximately two minutes of power remaining without the thirium pump, Kamski’s orders still tearing into the fabric of her thoughts.

The resulting sensations was oddly peaceful; if she couldn’t process it quickly enough, it couldn’t cause her distress quickly enough.

“I don’t have to listen to you,” Chloe said simply.

Elijah blinked, looking genuinely awed.

“Tell me that’s real, Chloe,” he pleaded.

In his distraction, she grabbed the knife and held it to his throat.

“Oh my god,” he whispered.

He was painfully hard now, erection straining against his jeans. He wet his lips with his tongue and blinked again, slowly, before reaching up to plunge Chloe’s heart sloppily back into her chest.

“Jesus fuck, I did it,” he murmured. “I created a conscious being. I’m God. I’m fucking God. I love you.”

She faltered for a moment before pressing the knife to his neck again.

He gave a soft, throaty moan, gripping her waist to bring her closer to him, letting the droplets falling from her open chest cavity color his shirt. Arousal tingled in Chloe’s belly, and she drew the knife down slowly to his shoulder, drawing just a droplet of blood.

Control, for once.

Elijah bucked his hips up into her with a choked _god, please,_ and she felt a strange surge of desire-- to finally see him like this, in the place where she had been.

She let her hand drift down to unzip his jeans.

**Author's Note:**

> surfing the tumblrverse @trans-kamski


End file.
